


Baby Winchester

by Savi909



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 01:43:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8646988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savi909/pseuds/Savi909
Summary: If Dean and Sam got additional years with their mother, and consequently got a sister, how would that change the story of their lives while they save people and hunt things? Join Louise Winchester as she deals with her brothers and their bullshit, while trying to deal with her own.
*ON HIATUS*





	1. Left Alone

                Being the baby sister of the Winchester boys was a bitch, especially when there was a job to be done. Sam and Dean had always jumped at the chance to cream a monster, easy, but made me stay behind. Frankly, I missed those asshats, but I missed the work, too. I had gone on my own, so they could do that brotherly shit which means they beat on each other until they’re friends again, and I had been doing well by myself. Even dropped in on Ellen, Jo and Bobby once to ask for news regarding my brothers, but they had been fine, so I’d continued on my own monster hunt.

                Until one day, Sam came to tell me that Dean was dead.

                I have no idea how he had found me, probably with his laptop and magic researcher skills. I do have some pretty obvious aliases: Diana Prince, Selina Kyle, Natalia Romanova, Stormy Munroe. I had been staying in Oklahoma, about a mile from a suspected vampire nest that I hadn’t made any headway on. He turned up in the Impala, banging on the door to my suite and shouting my name in that shaky voice that didn’t encourage me to open the door.

                “Louise, please, it’s about Dean,” he had said.

                Now, I was in the Impala with him, driving to Ellen’s because I desperately wanted to see Jo and I knew that neither of us Winchesters should be alone. We had a tendency to go crazy when something happened to our loved ones; hell, after our dad died at the hands of yellow-eyes, all three of us didn’t speak to the other two for five days.

                I jumped, suddenly I was being shaken awake by familiar warm hands. I stared up at Sam, watching him tear up as he looked at my face. He always said I looked just like Dean.

                “Let’s go inside, Sam,” I whispered, breaking the tense silence. He only nodded.

                Jo was at the bar when we walked through the door, looking as if the words ‘We’re closed’ were on her lips, just before she looked up. I knew we looked like shit, bags under our eyes and hair messy from running our fingers through it, which was a habit Sam and I shared. I also had Dean’s leather jacket on my arm, while I carried my full duffle bag over my shoulder.

                “Mom!” Jo hollered into the back before slipping around the bar, grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me into a hug.

                “Jo, what’s going on?” Ellen’s voice came from the kitchen, and the sound of a shotgun cocking before she emerged.

                “Hi, Ellen,” Sam said, his voice thick, probably from holding back tears.

                We only stayed with them for a week, before Sam found a job he wanted to pursue and I had enough of being treated like glass. I didn’t want to go back into hunting so quick, telling Sam we should probably see Bobby before making any rash decisions, but that had only resulted in a fight.

                “Sam, you need to finish grieving, and so do I!” I yelled. We were outside in the sun, with him leaning against the Impala and me standing in front of him. I wanted to punch him in the nose.

                “I’m ready to get back into hunting, Lu,” he told me, feigning calm as I could see the vein pulse in his temple, “Dean would’ve wanted me to.”

                “That’s the stupidest excuse I’ve ever heard!” I was so mad, sometimes my brothers were such stereotypical _males_.

                “No, it’s not, Louise. Stay out of trouble, yeah?” Sam pulled the car door open, angling his tall frame into the driver’s seat. I felt my face getting wet with tears, but I swallowed the lump in my throat.

                “Samuel John Winchester, get out!” I screamed, pulling at the door handle and banging on the dusty window. He looked up with me, hazel eyes sad, then started the engine.

                My throat was starting to hurt as I kept yelling, but I doubted he could hear me over the Impala’s roar. I was trying to break the window now, with my fists, because if I did then he wouldn’t leave me all alone with my sorrow. I got this sudden feeling that he wasn’t just leaving because of a job, but maybe I had been too much to handle. It had been too long.

                The door opened roughly, pushing me off of the car and onto my ass in the dirt, as Sam put it in drive and left me in the parking lot of Ellen’s place, hoping that I hadn’t just lost my other brother.

 

~~~~~

 

                In the time after Sam ditched me, I had hardened into a girl our dad would have been proud of. I was an excellent shot since I could pick up a gun, but now with more difficult hunts behind me, I was a full-on badass. My skin looked worse for wear, scars all over me, but my muscles were toned and developed, along with my awareness of my surroundings and position of my body where I stood. For only 21, I felt far closer to 50, but thankfully I didn’t look it, with my long dirty blonde hair now reaching my ass if I didn’t wear it up, and my bright green eyes framed by long lashes. I couldn’t look in the mirror at my eyes anymore, though, because those were Dean’s eyes, too.

                I had gotten myself a truck to get around in, with Bobby’s help, and expanded my wardrobe for the purpose of luring certain jobs to me. Also, recently, I’d abandoned my old aliases in favor of creating a new one, Thelma Duke, which just made me snigger. Have fun finding that one when you need my help, Sam.

                Now, it had been about six months, and I was staying at a little motel across from a bar, investigating what I felt to be demon activity. Putting on a tight, short dress that I couldn’t quite decide was blue or purple, along with my favorite baby pink platform stilettos, I made my way to the bathroom to double check my hair and makeup, grabbing my little silver clutch and making sure my dagger was in place in my thigh holster. Never hurt to be too careful, even if tonight was just about having some much needed alcohol.

                I got in the door easily enough, flicking my hair at the body guard with a wink and slipping him a fifty as I passed. I picked my way to the bar, tipping the bartender before ordering a shot of Gentleman’s Jack.

                “That’s hard stuff for such a pretty lady,” a man’s voice crawled across my shoulders, making me shiver, but I ignored him and knocked back the shot anyway. I motioned to the bartender for another, letting out a snort.

                “Who said I was a lady, hmm?” I replied. The man slid into the seat next to me, his eyebrow arched with a slight smile on his lips. He was handsome, dark eyes and dark hair, with a sharp nose and prominent chin. I knocked back the second shot as he stared at me.

                “Do I get to hear your name?” He asked suddenly, eyeing my third shot warily.

                “Nope,” I said, knocking back that one, too. I licked my lips, finally feeling warm on the inside from the alcohol. I called the bartender back over, asking if he had cotton candy vodka, and could I have shots of that, please. Dean always said I had more of a sweet tooth than he did.

                “What are you doing here tonight, then, lovely?” He brushed some of my straightened hair from my shoulder, letting his touch linger.

                “I’m here to have fun,” I told him plainly, shrugging before I had my vodka shot. “Alone.” The man only chuckled, finally letting his hand fall away from me. I shivered again.

                “Well, if you want to not be alone,” he began, leaning closer to speak right against my ear, “my name is Tony, and I’ll be around.” Tony tucked a piece of my long hair behind my ear before slipping away.

                I sipped down my second vodka shot, watching as he walked away from me towards the dance floor. He kept eyeing me, but eventually another blonde girl got his attention, pulling him close to her body and gyrating along to the club music. I quickly looked away, signaling the bartender, before turning my eyes back to the crowd. The music was actually pretty good for a seedy little club in the middle of nowhere, and I caught myself singing along to a song I knew while I watched the people.

                A few more shots and a beer later, I had a good buzz going and decided that dancing wasn’t the worst idea in the world. I had come to let off some steam about my abandonment issues anyway, and neither of my brothers were here, one dead, so I deserved this. Right?

                The crowd was sweaty as I pushed through the throng of bodies, grinding on a few of them in my efforts to pass. I had another beer in my hand, with my clutch strap wrapped around my wrist. The DJ must have known I wanted to flaunt my stuff, because Figure 8 by Maliibu N Helene thumped through the speakers as I got lost in the feel of people around me who didn’t know who I was or know that the things that went bump in the night were real.

                Tony seemed to find me in seconds, coming up behind me to settle his hands on my hips and press his pelvis into my ass. I giggled, admittedly a little drunk, as I sipped my beer and let myself move to the beat and enjoy myself for the first time in a long time. We danced like that for probably two more songs, with me sipping on my beer and him setting the tone of our grinding. I could sense he was getting impatient, though, as something was obviously pressed between us.

                “How about we go back to yours?” His mouth was pressed up against my ear, one hand still on my hip while the other wandered across my abdomen, threatening to go lower. I smirked to myself.

                “I think I’ve been here long enough,” I said, chugging the last of my beer and making my way over to the bar to throw some cash down for my tab.

                As I dragged him further from the music, his grip on me grew tight, but I continued to play really drunk and really stupid. Men never suspected me of being able to hold my liquor, except Dean, he knew I had him beat because my liver wasn’t as fucked up as his was.

                “So can I know your name now?” Tony asked once we were out into the street, smiling easily even though he was dragging me in the opposite direction of the motel and into an alley on the far side of the building.

                “I’m Thelma,” I giggled out, letting him press me up against the brick wall of the building next to the club.

                “As in Thelma and Louise?” He was chuckling, grabbing at my hair to tip my head back. Suddenly, his mouth was on mine, one of his hands wandering to more intimate places and I groaned, just letting myself feel for a moment.

                “Not everyone makes _that_ connection,” I breathed between kisses, “most often I get asked if I’ve got a best friend named Daphne, because people are too drunk to realize the difference between Thelma and Velma.” His hand had made its way up my skirt, dangerously close to brushing against the strap for my holster. I started getting a bad feeling about this.

                A loud engine sound brought me to attention, and I grabbed Tony’s wrists, prying them from my body and realizing for the first time how much smaller I was than like 90 percent of the adult human population. The odds weren’t for me, right then.

                “C’mon, Thelma, let’s just have fun tonight,” he whispered, twisting out of my grip only to grab me by my upper arms.

                “ _Christo_ ,” I said, watching his eyes flash black before returning to normal. He shoved me very hard against the brick, letting it dig into my back as I grappled with him.

                “A fucking hunter,” he said, “of course! And none other than a Winchester, am I right?”

                One handed, I flipped my clutch open and tossed the contents – salt – into his face before kicking him away from me. I slid the dagger from its holster, thrusting it into his throat, watching the powerful orange light of the demon flicker out and the body slump to the ground. Thankful for the darkness, I wiped the blade on the man’s jacket and tucking it away again before fluffing my hair and fixing my dress.

                I emerged from the alley, walking quickly towards the motel and trying not to trip over myself, realizing I was maybe a bit too toasted after all the adrenaline wore off. I paused in the parking lot, leaning against the nearest car to gather my bearings, before continuing my walk towards the stairs and eventually letting myself into my room.

                As soon as I walked in, I knew someone had been there. My duffle bag had moved, there was a shotgun that I kept under the bed propped up on the headboard, which I grabbed after flinging my little silver clutch into a pile of clothes that I didn’t remember being there. I pumped the shotgun, adrenaline coming back full force. I checked the whole place, methodically, but nobody was there anymore. Sighing, I set the shotgun by the door, unstrapping myself from my knife and slipping out of my shoes. I needed to sleep this off.

                I peeled myself out of my dress, making a stop at the bathroom to wipe the makeup from my face and pull my hair up into a messy bun. I caught a quick glance at myself in the mirror, standing in just my bra and a thong with all my scars visible.

                “You look like you have fought in a war,” a deep voice came from outside the door, making me jump and let out a girly screech. A man, about six foot with dark hair and bright blue eyes, wearing a _trench coat_ of all things, was staring at me openly. Behind him, large beautiful dark wings seemed to loom in the shadows.

                I gasped, grabbing my dagger that I’d put on the sink and throwing it at him, where it lodged into the hollow of his shoulder. He squinted at me, looking down at the hilt of my blade, then pulling it out without getting a drop of blood anywhere.

                “What. The. _Fucking hell_!” I shouted, just staring at him with wide eyes.

                “Louise?” Someone else was in my apartment, and their voice sounded familiar.

                I moved around the strange man with striking eyes, that followed me, stumbling as I grabbed a tee that had once been Dean’s and pulling it over my head. I padded into the main room, throat catching as I saw what awaited me.

                Dean and Sam stood in the middle of the room, both looking at me hopefully.

                “Sam, please, _please_ tell me I’m not hallucinating because I’m drunk off my ass.” I whispered, not wanting to disturb the calm that had come over me in seeing my oldest brother.

                “I’m really here, Lulu,” Dean said, grin splitting his face as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. My eyes grew watery and I choked down the lump in my throat, hoping beyond hope that this wasn’t a trick. I scrambled towards my nightstand, grabbing the gun I kept there and pointing it towards Dean.

                “Louise! Stop!” Sam shouted, rushing towards me, but I just pointed it at him, too. He put his hands up in surrender before continuing. “Bobby and I have already checked him, okay? It’s really him.”

                “What was the last thing you said to me?” I asked Dean. His grin turned into a wry smirk.

                “I said: Don’t do anything that I would do. And I love you.” A sob let loose from my chest before I could wrangle it back, turning to Sam.

                “What do I call you when I get scared?” My voice wasn’t steady at all, and I could feel another sob creeping up on me, but they both knew I had to ask my random questions.

                “You call me Bear, because I was always much bigger than you and you had trouble with making S-sounds when you were little.” I sniffled and threw my gun on the bed, walking towards him only to rear my fist back and deck him right in the nose, hearing a small crunch as he yelped in pain.

                “Lu!” Dean exclaimed, pulling me away from Sam.

                “You just left me there, asshole!” I screamed, fighting Dean’s grip. “In the dirt, crying like a scared little girl because you were all I had _left_!” Sam’s head was tipped back to prevent blood getting everywhere, and Dean’s grip loosened when he looked at me, clearly surprised. I shook him off.

                “Louise, it was for your protection -“ I cut Sam off with an angry glare.

                “Let Cas fix your face, Sammy,” Dean said, gesturing to the man in the trench coat. I plopped down on my bed, putting my face in my hands as my head began to throb from all the alcohol. Maybe I was just having a really, _really_ drunk hallucination.

                I looked up as Sam groaned, watching as who Dean had called ‘Cas’ put his first two fingers to Sam’s forehead. As soon as I blinked, the blood was gone and Sam’s nose was fixed. I jumped to my feet.

                “Explain,” I said lowly, catching the attention of all three men. “Explain very, _very_ quickly.”

                “My name is Castiel,” the strange man, Castiel, kept his bright blue eyes locked on mine, “and I am an angel of the Lord.” On the last word, his shadowy wings seemed to ripple, as if he were metaphorically puffing out his chest.

                “No, _no way_ ,” I breathed, “holy fucking _fuck_!” I gaped at him, still drunk and a bit confused.

                “You are inebriated, Louise,” he began walking towards me, but I matched him step for step, retreating towards the bathroom, “I can cure you.”

                “No,” I put my hands up towards him, “no, no, no, _no,_ no, _no_ ,” he had backed me into a wall, and suddenly I felt very exposed with only my underwear and a shirt on.

                “Castiel,” Sam spoke up, “just give her a minute.” I heaved a sigh of relief as the… _angel_ backed off. I glanced back at my brothers, waiting for more of an explanation. When it was obvious nobody was going to talk, I studied the newcomer some more.

                He was tall, much larger than me but not quite Dean or Sam’s height, with dark hair that was kind of all over the place, as if he’d been hanging his head out of the car window…or maybe flying. Beneath the trench coat was a nice suit, but his blue tie was all sorts of messed up. I eyed his back, where I could see the forms of the wings protruding, and following the lines of the delicate muscle right out to the silken feathers with my gaze. Glancing back at his face, I admired the strong jaw that was covered in stubble, before meeting his eyes again. He was staring right back at me.

                “Cas?” Dean’s voice sounded far away, and nervous, as the angel stared me down.

                “You should have this back,” Castiel suddenly said, offering me my dagger, and I took it gratefully.

                “What just happened?” Sam asked, glancing between me and the other man.

                “I don’t wanna know,” Dean said, flopping onto my bed. I tore my eyes from the angel, looking at my very not-dead brother, then at the clock. It was past 2am.

                “Will you explain more later?” I looked nervously between Sam and Dean. The way their body language was towards each other led me to believe that Dean had been back for quite some time. I felt a bit left out with that thought.

                “Anything for you, angel,” Dean answered, sitting up with a groan, “but you should probably get some sleep, okay?” I nodded, relieved, as my brothers and Castiel left me alone in my room with my thoughts.  


	2. Confusion

                Dean and Sam had argued before going to bed, I could hear them through the wall. My head began to throb with all the things that had just happened tonight.

Eventually, I curled up into a ball and fell into a fitful sleep, waking several times before finally settling down. In my dreams, I was in a forest, roaming by myself until I came across a wide clearing filled with blueish-purple flowers, the color of my favorite dress. _Indigo_ , I realized, was the color I hadn’t been able to place. I stepped into the field, suddenly very aware of something behind me.

I turned around, only to find the demon from the bar there, my dagger in his hand and black eyes staring at me. Dark clouds swirled above us, thunder disrupting the peaceful day. I turned and ran for the other side of the clearing, but I didn’t even make it halfway before being tackled to the ground. We wrestled around a bit, squashing the flowers and suddenly the sky opened up, rain pouring down on top of us. I stopped struggling when I felt the blade pressing into my throat, turning my wide, green eyes on the demon.

“I find it funny that you don’t have an anti-possession tattoo, like your brothers,” he growled at me, pressing the blade down a bit, and I could feel it break the skin.

“Never saw the need,” I choked out, but the demon continued to press down on me. He raised his eyebrows in question, letting up just enough so I could continue. “I can resist.”

He stabbed the knife into the wet soil by my head, wrapping his hands around my throat. I clawed at his face, not quite being able to reach. The clouds overhead swirled closer, darkening to a black before barreling towards me the way demon smoke does. Rain pounded down harder, but I got my nails dragging down the demon’s face, making him scream and reel back in pain. I coughed into the mud, curling into a ball and protecting my head as the black smoke surrounded me.

“HELP!” I screamed, even though my throat was raw, “HELP, oh, God. Dean! Sam!? DEAN! HELP ME!”

Everything stopped, my dream world went quiet. I sat up, back in the way the field had originally looked, with the ground dry and the sky blue. My clothes were still soaked, my throat sore. I looked around, knowing someone would be there. On the edge of the tree line I saw the figures of Dean, Sam, and what I had learned through pictures was our mother, Mary Winchester. I stood up slowly, pushing down a sob, because now I knew what was going on.

“You are angels, just like Castiel, aren’t you?” My voice sounded loud, but I didn’t care, I had to know. They came closer, and as their backs came free of the shadows, I saw my proof.

Wings, larger than what Castiel’s had looked like, loomed behind them. I stared, feeling tears well up in my eyes as they continued to approach me. The one who looked like Dean had dark feathers on his wings that shimmered in a cobalt blue shade, and they were mesmerizing. I looked at the one who resembled our mom, her wing’s feathers were… _indigo_. I smiled, turning to the Sam figure and realizing that his wings looked damaged, the feathers singed and a few missing, but I could tell they had once been a brilliant white. My smile fell as I made the connection of which angel he was.

“As you appear to have figured out, Louise, I am the Archangel Lucifer,” he said in Sam’s voice. I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself and nodding in greeting.

“These are two other Archangels,” he continued, “Michael has taken the form of your other brother, Dean, and Ariel chose to come to you as Mary Winchester.”

“Can you explain to me what’s going on?” I asked, feeling my tears fall. “Why have you three been protecting me from demons my whole life and not my brothers?”

“Your brothers would not have merely accepted our help, and then moved on,” Dean – or, I guess, Michael the Archangel – said, “additionally, they had a very different path they needed to walk.”

“Okay, so why do you look like Dean, and Lucifer like Sam?” I questioned. The angels suddenly looked uneasy, as if they weren’t sure about telling me. My eyes darted between the three of them nervously.

“Here’s what we can tell you,” my mother’s soft hands touched my face, but through her bright eyes I knew it was Ariel, “Castiel brought Dean back from the dead, from Hell. You Winchesters are meant for great things. Please trust our younger brother, Castiel, and our fellow Archangel brother Gabriel if you ever come across him.” She smiled kindly at me, before continuing. “Do not believe anyone else, and stay safe. Don’t leave your brothers.”

“It’s time for you to wake up now, Louise,” Lucifer approached me as Ariel stepped back. My eyes widened before he touched my forehead, and everything was ripped away.

 

~~~~~

 

                I started awake with a scream, jerking upright in bed. I was a sweaty mess, tangled in my sheets, and my throat hurt badly. I scrambled from the mattress towards the bathroom, turning on the sink and splashing myself with cold water before sticking my face under the faucet and drinking some.

                “Louise? Are you alright?” Michael – no, that was _Dean_ , spoke through the door to the hall and knocked gently.

                “I’m fine,” I managed to say, approaching the door and yanking it open. Dean stood there, a foot taller than me, holding out a cup of coffee and a bag of powdered donuts. I grinned, letting him in my room.

                “Let me shower really quick, okay?” I said, scooping up some clothes before retreating to the bathroom, letting him settle himself at the small breakfast table.

                Dean waved me away, so I shut and locked the door, dropping my clothes and sitting on the closed toilet to try and gather myself. My brothers were both alive, and we were all together again, and the Archangels had told me not to split up from them. What. The. _Fuuuuck._

                After letting myself freak out, I stripped out of my clothes, catching sight of myself in the mirror. A small scar, consistent with the length of my dagger, ran horizontally across my neck where I remember the demon had held it in my dream. I shook off the weird feeling it gave me, stepping into the tub and showering fairly quickly. I gave into my need to sing while I lathered up my hair, defaulting to a song I thought fairly summed up my life.

                “ _Take my sins and wash them away, teach me how to pray_ ,” I began as I scrubbed my scalp. “ _I’ve been stranded here in the dark, take these walls away. I’ve been swimmin’ in the ocean, ‘til I’m almost drowned. Give me somethin’ I can believe in – teach me how to pray_.”

                I rinsed off, still humming the tune in my head until I got to my favorite part.

                “… _And make the Devil pray. Ooh save my, ooh save my, ooh save my – Devil’s here to fool ya. Ooh save my, ooh save my, ooh save my – Devil’s here to fool ya_.”

                My throat was still raw, so I stopped singing and finished washing. Once I was done, I cut off the water and wrapped myself in a big fluffy towel before stepping out to dry and put fresh clothes on. I ran my fingers through my hair in lieu of a hairbrush, deeming myself ready for this days round of bullshit once I had on my favorite light wash skinny jeans and a navy blue long sleeve shirt that I’d stolen from Sam when we had been at Ellen’s.  

                I opened the door, coming nearly face-to-chest with Castiel, and getting a sense of déjà vu. I heaved a sigh, looking up and meeting his eyes.

                “Louise,” he said simply, squinting at me.

                “Castiel,” I said back. His wings looked ruffled, and I realized that they weren’t shadows as I had thought, they were dark gray, almost black in color. Knowing I was staring, and it was probably not polite, I turned my eyes back to the angel, who was still squinting at me.

                “What’s going on?” Sam’s voice floated across the room towards us, breaking us from our staring contest.

                “Nothing, L- er, Sam,” my eyes widened at my near slip-up, trying not to catch Castiel’s eye again as I stepped around him. A couple of his feathers brushed against my arm, sending a warm shock through me, making me jump.

                “Louise, what’s wrong?” Dean stood up as if he were going to go kill something.

                “ _Nothing_ – nothing, I’m fine,” I rubbed at the spot on my arm, the shock radiating straight to my spine and shoulder blades. I shrugged it off, grabbing the coffee Dean had brought me from the table and taking a sip, then sitting on my bed.

                Nobody seemed to believe that I was okay, but Dean retook his seat, and Sam went back to typing away at his laptop. Castiel just stood off to the side, at the edge of my vision, so I drank my coffee and enjoyed the peace and quiet. I smiled into my cup as I thought about what the angels had said – to trust Castiel, and whoever Gabriel was. I resolved myself to doing some research once I wasn’t under the watchful eye of my brothers and an angel, though all of them must be dying to ask me why I’m taking this so well. There’s only so much weirdness and abnormal shit you see before the impossible is inevitably possible.

                “So, Sam, where have you been?” I blurted, drawing all three pairs of eyes to myself. Sam just kind of looked…sheepish. I wanted to punch him again.

                “Odd jobs across a few states,” he said, flicking his eyes between the laptop screen and me. I could tell he didn’t want to face my wrath again, I had our dad’s temper worse than the boys did.

                Finally coming to terms with the fact that, since I was no longer drunk, or dreaming, my brothers were actually in front of me, I needed some more answers. I could deal with the angel later, figuring he tied into a majority of this or else he wouldn’t be here. I looked at Dean, studied him, and realized I still had his leather jacket in my bag, so it was no wonder he seemed like he was missing something, but he also looked, well, good. His necklace is in place, and our mom’s ring on his right hand, with his short dirty blond hair flattened from sleeping and his green eyes bright. I let a small smile slip onto my face, watching him and Sam interact over the laptop, discussing what was probably another case. I missed this.

                “Your soul is almost as bright as Dean’s.” Castiel perched at my side, to my right, and I could tell he was consciously trying to hold his left wing away from me.

                “What do you mean by bright? And my soul?” I asked, feeling my brow furrow. His expression just stayed serious.

                “As an angel, I see the souls of humans,” he began explaining quietly, “and they allow me to ascertain whether or not you are a good person, if you’ve committed murder, or are spiritual. Some more things are visible as well.” He met my eyes carefully, and I could tell he saw some of my crazy time brother-less in my soul, things I hadn’t even told them about. I gulped down some more of my coffee.

                “And Dean has a bright soul?” I smiled, sparing a glance at Dean before turning back to Castiel.

                “Yes, the brightest I’ve ever seen,” he answered. “It’s my belief that Dean is The Righteous Man.” The term seemed familiar, from a dream or a book I read years ago. I’d have to remember to look it up later, but for now I just nodded in thought, finishing my coffee.

                I stood up, throwing away the gas station paper cup and turning to my duffle bag, making sure I had stowed extra ammo for my pistol in the bottom before pulling out a pair of socks. I slipped them on, grabbing my boots and knocking some of the mud off the bottom from my last job before pulling those on and lacing them up, making sure they settled well against my jeans where they came over halfway up my shin. Grabbing Dean’s leather jacket from under the covers of the bed, I threw it at him and he caught it before it had a chance to smack him in the face.

                “What are you doing?” Sam asked, watching me flit around the room. I grabbed my gun from the nightstand, checking the clip before slipping it in the small of my back, and then my knife, which went into my boot.

                “Packing up,” I said, moving to the bathroom and taking everything. I liked the scent this motel used for their soaps.

                Once everything was shoved into my bag, I turned to face my brothers, noticing Castiel was absent. Sam had closed his laptop and was putting it into his satchel, and Dean was on the phone, arguing with someone. I pulled my sweatshirt jacket on, leaving it unzipped, and looping my belt through my jeans.

                “I have to drop off my truck at Bobby’s, and restock my ammo,” I told Sam, “but then I’m all yours. No more hunting separately, as long as you two don’t baby me.” Sam rolled his eyes, but Dean had just hung up and caught the end of my sentence.

                “Hey, no one puts Baby in a corner,” Dean said seriously, making me laugh.

                “Exactly,” I said, throwing my hands up in mock exasperation, still laughing.

 

~~~~~

               

The drive to Bobby’s was uneventful and short. The old man tried to insist that we stay, so he could explain some of what happened regarding Dean, but I adamantly refused because honestly, I didn’t want to know. I could tell that Dean remembered Hell, no matter what he tried to say to pacify Sam, and I didn’t want my brother hurting.

Now that we were back in the Impala, or Baby, as Dean so lovingly called her, I got shotgun while Dean drove.

“So where the hell are we going?” I asked.

“Well,” Sam started from behind me, “I want to look into this angel business more. I mean, where is God in all of this?” I nodded, thinking back to Michael, Lucifer, and Ariel.

“Yeah, I definitely have a few questions of my own…” I admitted, trailing off in thought.

“Louise, why was Cas so weird with you?” Dean asked suddenly. I shrugged it off.

“Not sure, Dee,” I said, “maybe he was a bit suspicious because I didn’t freak too bad? I can only imagine how you took it, or Sammy.” That made both of them grimace. Exactly what I had suspected, they had probably tried in vain to kill Castiel.

“My question is still not answered,” I grumbled.

“We’re staying local,” Sam spoke up. “Bobby directed us to a big library maybe another thirty minutes away.”

“Alrighty, then.” With that, I slumped down in my seat, content for a short nap.

 

I was back in the field of my dreams within moments, only this time the flowers were much taller, and sprigs of lavender also peppered the clearing mixed in with the others. Walking slowly, I dragged my fingertips on the tops of the flowers, turning my head up towards the sun and enjoying the warmth.

“Louise Winchester,” a deep voice came from behind me. I whirled in surprise, not easily startled in my dreams unless there was a demon. The sight of Castiel’s piercing blue gaze and looming dark wings made me gasp and take a step back involuntarily. He followed my step, his trench coat swishing a bit around his knees.

“Castiel!” I exclaimed, snapping out of my shock. I moved forward and threw my arms around his neck in a hug, which I could tell confused the hell out of him but it didn’t matter to me. When I let go, he just stood and peered down at me. He seemed to be assessing me.

“You know I am not a figment of your imagination, and that I am really here, in your mind.” It was more of a statement than a question, but his quirked eyebrows suggested he wanted a response. I smiled at him.

“Yes, Castiel, of course.”

“You are most interesting.” He said. I just shrugged.

“Apparently, I changed everything, by being the younger sister to the two Winchester brothers. There have been a lot of interesting things about my life.” I sighed.

“Like the fact that you can see a manifestation of my wings?” Castiel asked, squinting at me. I just looked back at him for a second, contemplating what to tell him. Ariel had told me to trust him.

“There are more like you; more Angels of the Lord, who can walk the Earth.” I said, taking a deep, calming breath. “I know a few others, who have kept me safe, but haven’t explained much to me about why I can see that you’re an angel or any of the other weird things that have happened to me. I have been told to trust you, Castiel, and one named Gabriel.” Castiel looked deeply troubled, but I continued. “They come to me like you have now, in my dreams, wearing the faces of my loved ones: Dean, Sam, and my mother. I don’t know what it means, Castiel! I need your help!”

I was beginning to panic, the flowers around me wilting a bit while the sky grew cloudy. My hands were trembling, and then a warm presence was in front of me, grabbing my face and trying to get me to look at them. It was my mother, Mary; her face stared at me, eyes green like mine. Like Dean’s.

“Ariel.” Castiel’s deep voice penetrated my thoughts. My gaze snapped to him, and he was glaring, visibly glacial. The angel in front of me turned around, spreading her wings to protect me.

“Castiel, please.” Ariel’s voice seemed to soothe my panic. My head was beginning to pound, and I fell to my knees, palms pushing into my eyes. The wind was picking up, whipping my hair around my face.

“Is she your vessel?” I heard Castiel ask. I was getting dizzy, and I wanted to throw up.

“We are cut out for a different destiny. There is room for both of us in a different way than how you occupy your vessel, or how Michael or Raphael can occupy their vessels.”

“Yes, she is very different. I have seen her soul.”

“She need only say yes,” Ariel’s voice came from above me now. I felt like I was floating away.


End file.
